Ellie Gets Spanked
by Gryngolet
Summary: Ellie gets spanked. Not, surprisingly, by Peter. Alternate ending to Episode 3.13, Neighborhood watch. Contains non-consensual disciplinary spanking of an adult.


Alternate ending to the Season 3 Episode "Neighborhood Watch", in which Joe Manganiello guest stars as Ben, a thief. Ellie has overheard, on a police scanner Peter left lying around, discussion of what sounds like a crime being planned. She informs Peter and he checks it out, but doesn't find anything. Frustrated at not being believed, and having discovered who the presumed criminals are, Ellie enlists Neal and Mozzie to help her get proof. Peter is entangled into the scheme when Ellie introduces herself to the thieves and gets Peter and herself invited over to dinner in the pretext that the Burkes' kitchen is being remodeled. The next day, Ben stops by to return the dish Ellie had brought to the dinner and realizes that he has been lied to. Manganiello's delicious quiet menace in that scene got me thinking about how I could get Ellie spanked by Ben. I know this doesn't really work – it strains credulity past the breaking point to think that Peter would allow it. I originally had the spanking come right after Ben spoke to Peter on the phone, but I rewrote it to give Peter time to get to know and trust Ben. It still doesn't work. So this is very AU, or OOC, or whatever the appropriate acronym is to say it would never happen. Also, POV jumps all over the place. I haven't figured a way to fix that yet.

Everything up to "Yeah. People never are." is from the episode, as well as I remember it. The rest is my twisted imagination. I've never written a "Peter spanks Neal" White Collar story, but I've read them with enjoyment. I can't remember which story I read where it was Elizabeth who suggested to Peter that he spank Neal, but this story presupposes that.

Ben's voice was mild and low as he glanced towards the kitchen while squatting to pet Satchmo's ruff. "Thought you were having your kitchen redone."

_Shit._ Ellie scrambled for a lie. "Well, you, know these things are never finished . . ."

"So you lied to get inside my house." The deep voice was still quiet, but she was suddenly very aware that she was alone, but for her elderly dog, in the house with this man who had a foot of height on her, and probably 100 lbs., all of it muscle.

Her stomach tightened as if preparing for a blow. Keeping her voice as steady as she was able, she spoke. "Ben, I'm not looking for any trouble here."

He rose from his crouch, and walked unhurriedly towards her. Satchmo whined, sensitive to the sudden change in the atmosphere , or maybe just protesting the end of his neck scritches. Ben passed by her too closely, almost brushing against her. "Yeah. People never are." He continued past her to the front door.

Ellie let out her breath as he opened the door. Thank god he was leaving. She was going to call Peter right away. She'd been nearly as scared as when Keller had grabbed her – there was something about Ben's quiet, resigned bearing that was more frightening than outright fury. It was the attitude of a man who'd accepted the necessity of performing an unpleasant but essential task. She had thought for a moment that he was going to hurt her, badly.

Ben stopped in the doorway, peered out in both directions, then stepped back in and closed and locked the door. Ellie froze, then scrambled for the kitchen phone. He took three long strides and got there before her, pulling the phone clear out of the wall and tossing it on the counter. Then he grabbed her around the torso, pinning both of her arms to her sides with one of his and pulling her back against his body. She drew in a breath to scream and his other hand, big and calloused from his carpentry work, clamped across her mouth. He leaned down to talk quietly in her ear.

"Shh. Don't scream. I ain't gonna hurt you. I just want to have a little talk."

She was so close to him she could smell his scent of soap and sawdust and cigarettes. It occurred to her that the combination would have been pleasant under other circumstances.

_Get it together, Ellie_. She was probably about to be beaten or killed, but her reptile brain was focusing on the unfamiliar sensation of being held so intimately against a male body that didn't belong to her husband. She didn't have time to work her way through the mixture of feelings that brought, though, because panic was causing her sinuses to clog, so she could breathe neither through her nose nor her mouth. She stopped struggling, hoping he would loosen his hand enough to let her breathe if he thought she was going to cooperate.

After a moment he took his hand away, giving her shoulders a warning squeeze against making noise.

"All right. I want to know who you really are, what you know, and why you're messing in what don't concern you."

He turned her in his arms so he could look her in the eye. Her mind, still rabbiting around in terror, flashed on the notion that they must look an absurd parody of a clinching couple about to kiss.

Ellie was no waif – she was built more like Kate Winslet than Keira Knightley. Peter loved her curves, but she'd sometimes wished that she were smaller or that he weren't so wiry and lean. She'd wished the height discrepancy between them were more than a few inches. She'd thought that she would have liked to feel small and delicate, overpowered by her husband. In Ben's grasp she felt like a kitten in the jaws of a mastiff.

"Um. . ." She wouldn't be able to lie convincingly. Maybe if Ben found out that Peter was law enforcement and they were onto the plan he'd be scared enough to just tie her up and run. "My husband works for the FBI. He brought home a scanner from one of his stakeouts, and I overheard you talking about the robbery you had planned. I didn't know who you were, but then I saw you on your phone just after I'd overheard you again on the scanner, and I realized it was you. We followed you to the club."

"FBI. Damn it. So you decided you just had to stick your nose in. Lady, you have no idea what's at stake here."

"Please, just let me go. I promise I won't tell Peter anything else." That was so patently untrue even she couldn't pretend to believe it, and the sarcastic twist to his lips told her he wasn't fooled either.

"Right. Shut up and let me think." He released her but stayed threateningly close. He ran a hand through his hair, which was thick and overlong and the same dark brown as his beard. Ellie glanced over at the butcher block which held her kitchen knives, but she wasn't desperate enough yet to try that. She doubted she'd be able to do more than piss him off, and she really didn't want to piss him off any further.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched a number. "Rebecca. We got trouble. I'm at the nosy neighbors. FBI. They know what's going down. Call the FBI field office and ask for an agent named Peter Burke. We don't stop this now they could blow everything."

He turned to her, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a badge. "Ben Morello, detective, NYPD. You and your husband almost cost us six months undercover work infiltrating a gang of thieves we've been chasing for three years. This heist was going to be my way to get enough trust to be introduced to the guys calling the shots."

Ellie retreated as far away from him as she could, rubbing her upper arm where he'd held her, numbly trying to process this reversal in her fortunes. Her legs were still shaking, and she sat down as Morello paced the room in frustration. After a few moments her cell phone began to ring. Still nervous, she looked at him for permission to answer it and he gave a slight nod.

Ben could hear the outraged tone of Burke's voice through the phone, even from across the room. Rebecca must have told him how Ellie had come to the club and impersonated an agent. Her snooping around could have cost the NYPD a long and expensive sting; worse, if Ben had really been a bad guy, it could have cost her her life. He motioned for the phone with his fingers.

Ellie tried to cut her husband off. She was cringing at the anger in his voice "Ben wants to talk to you. Yeah, he's right here. Peter, I'm so sorry. I never meant . . . yeah, here he is." She handed the phone over, tears in her big brown eyes.

Ben jabbed a finger at the couch, an order clear on his face: _You sit right there, lady, until I'm ready to deal with you. _He took the phone into the foyer and had a low conversation with Mr. FBI, who was distraught and apologetic. Burke promised that there would be no further interference in the operation, and offered his personal assistance and the FBI's if it was needed. Morello told him he'd get back to him on that; he had to meet up with Rebecca and the rest of the cops on the operation to go back over the details. If this one woman could have nearly derailed him, what else might he have missed?

He hung up and walked back to Ellie, who was still sitting, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. She looked warily up at him as he returned the phone to her.

"Look, I'm sorry about the phone and about scaring you. I needed to find out who you were – you could have been another thief for all I knew. Luckily nothing seems to have happened that will screw up my operation."

Elizabeth nodded. Now that the danger had passed, she was starting to feel some outrage at the way he'd manhandled her. She'd been really _scared_.

"Did you tell my husband that you grabbed me and put your hand over my mouth?" she asked angrily.

"I told him everything. He ain't happy with either of us, but he's more than pissed at you, and I don't blame him. You put yourself in what could have been a lot of danger, and for no reason. He's on his way home to . . . discuss it with you Good luck with that."

_Good luck indeed_. Ellie walked the big detective to the door, double-locking it behind him with a feeling of great relief. She sat down on the couch and called Satchmo over to her, allowing him up beside her. She cuddled his head into her lap, burying her face in the soft fur between his ears.

Had she imagined that slight pause before the word "discuss"? She thought about the "discussions" Peter had had with Neal over the past few months. Discussions which always ended up with Neal on the receiving end of spanking. No way would Peter spank _her _– would he?

How would she feel about it if he did?

Peter, Diana, Neal, Mozzie, Ben and Rebecca met up on the day after the robbery's successful conclusion for a debriefing and few drinks. It had been two weeks since the confrontation between Ben and Ellie, and Peter and Diana had been instrumental in helping the NYPD get done what needed to be done. Ben had a meeting set in a few days time with a man he knew only as Fitz, the ringleader of the crew of thieves.

Neal walked over to the table, carrying a tray with a pitcher of beer and glasses. He poured and raised his glass.

"To the end of another job well done."

They all clinked their glasses.

"It's thanks to you, Caffrey. Your idea for getting in that building was genius. And I've never seen anybody pick a lock that quick," Ben said.

Neal shrugged modestly. "It's a talent."

Peter pursed his lips. "Don't think I didn't notice that you brought your own set of bump keys."

Neal turned a little pale. "Well, Peter, I only have those in case of emergency. You'll agree that this was an emergency, right?"

"We'll discuss it later."

Neal backed away and involuntarily shielded his bottom. Realizing what he'd done, in public, he blushed and dropped his voice to a whisper that Ben could still hear.

"Peter, is that – is that really necessary?"

Peter dropped his voice just as low. "Relax, Caffrey. I only want to talk."

Neal nodded a little stiffly and went over to join Rebecca, Mozzie, and Diana, who were bemoaning the high cost of real estate.

Ben waved his beer glass in their direction. "What was that all about?"

Peter smiled, a little embarrassedly. "Oh it's . . . nothing. Just something that Ellie suggested that makes dealing with Neal a little easier."

Ben was intrigued but he could tell he wouldn't be getting more from the FBI agent just yet.

"How are things with Ellie?"

"Still really strained. You know we had a big fight that night after you called me. I really yelled at her. Said some not nice things. I was so angry. I apologized the next day, and she did too, but it still feels like we're strangers in the same house. I love her so much, Ben, and I know she loves me, but there's this big something between us that we can't seem to talk about. I don't know what to do about it."

"You think she's still mad at you?"

"Honestly, no. It's the other way around. I'm mad, mad about what she did, but I can't seem to express it in a way that doesn't make me feel like an ogre. She looks so guilty every time I look at her, but I have no confidence she wouldn't do the same thing again if a similar situation came up."

"That . . . way you have of dealing with Neal when he does something wrong. You said it was her idea?"

"Look, I really can't talk about that. It wouldn't be fair to Neal."

"Peter, I saw the way he put his hands over his ass and backed away from you. I know what that means. I got took out to the woodshed a time or twenty when I was a kid."

Peter said nothing, but something in his face must have given confirmation, because Ben continued.

"In my experience, a woman don't suggest a spanking as a punishment for anyone unless it's something she's thought about a lot. Maybe you could have one of your discussions with her. Maybe that'd clear the air: you'd stop feeling angry, and she'd stop feeling guilty."

But Peter was shaking his head vehemently. "No. No way could I ever do that to my wife."

"You care about Neal too, don't you?"

"It's different. Caffrey grew up without a father. He's an adult but sometimes he's got the judgment and moral compass of a teenager. He _needs_ it."

"What if Ellie needs it right now, too. Would you keep it from her just cause it makes you uncomfortable?"

"I just. . . I don't think I can. I was raised from the cradle on the notion that a man never, ever, under any circumstances, hits a woman. And Ellie – I love her, Ben."

Ben leaned close and dropped his voice even lower, glancing over at the other four to make sure they still weren't listening. "Rebecca and I sometimes play games involving spanking. Some women like it, Burke. You don't have to hit hard – hell, let me talk to her and maybe she'll agree to let us show you – just the spanking, mind, not the after."

"You spank Rebecca?"

Burke's voice had risen involuntarily as he glance over to the willowy redhead, who looked tough, competent, and in no way abused.

"Shh. Keep your voice down, or she'll be spanking me. Yes, I've spanked her. Not for punishment - well, once or twice – she likes it too much for it to really work as punishment."

"Really? And you think El - ? No. No. What am I thinking? Thank you, no."

"Well. No doubt you know best. Listen, Rebecca and I are gonna have to call it a night. I got lots of prep work coming up for my meeting with Fitz. I know you and Ellie will work it out. And thanks for all of your help. You ever need anything, you have my number."

The next few days didn't bring much of thaw in Burke and Ellie's relationship. They hadn't made love since the night of Ben and Rebecca's dinner party. Neither one of them had rejected, or, Peter believed, _would_ reject an advance by the other, it was just that there seemed an insurmountable hill to climb before such an advance could be made. Peter hated seeing his wife so unhappy, and was miserable himself. There was a pit of anger and dread in his stomach every time he saw her. Even Neal commented on it.

"Is everything copacetic on the home front, Peter? Ellie hasn't looked happy lately, and you seem rather . . . tense."

"No, things have been bad between us ever since that thing with Ben Morello. We had a fight about it, and we can't seem to get past it."

"Peter, that's stupid. Everything worked out okay n the end."

Peter turned on him. "Sure, that's the way you operate, isn't it? Take a risk, it'll probably be all right. But what if it isn't, Neal? Things don't always work out for the best. Take stupid risks and you could get killed. She could have been killed."

Neal didn't flinch, just gazed calmly back at him. "I know people can get hurt. I'm the last person you need lecture about losing people you love."

_Oh shit, Kate._ "I didn't mean . . ."

"I know that," Neal said gently. "But you and Ellie are too good together to let anything come between you. Work it out, please. For all our sakes."

"Caffrey – can I ask you – it's just that Morello mentioned – Oh, jeez."

"What are you babbling about, Peter? Out with it."

"I sort of mentioned our discussions, and how they were originally Ellie's idea. Morello seemed to think I should have the same sort of discussion with her. He said the fact that she brought it up was proof it was something she was interested in."

"You never told me that was Elizabeth's idea."

"I was really angry with you that day, Neal. You'd lied to me and put yourself in a bad situation. I was ready to send you back to prison. Ellie convinced me that you meant well but that you just needed some guidance."

"Huh. Well, you're pretty mad at her right now, aren't you? She didn't lie to you, but she did show poor judgment. What's sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose. By her own logic she should get the same as I did." He winced a little, remembering. "Well, maybe not _quite_ the same. Not Ellie."

"Morello also told me he spanks Rebecca from time to time. He said I didn't have to spank her hard. He offered to show me."

Neal whistled. "Kinky. But why don't you let him show you both? Ask him to come over and punish Ellie for you. She'll get what she needs, you'll see that it can be done, and it'll be over. I think he'd do it."

Burke though of his beautiful wife over Morello's lap and felt an instant and strenuous rejection of the vision, but then he remembered her unhappy eyes, and he thought about it some more. He got out his phone.

_Elizabeth, we need to talk. Things haven't been right between us for a while. Since that incident with the scanner, in fact. Ben Morello and his partner Rebecca and Diana and Neal and Mozzie are all coming over tonight, and we're going to hash it out. Ben will get there first. He wants to discuss some things with you. I think it's a discussion you need to have. He'll be there around 6:00._

Ellie found the note when she got home from work. She read it three times but the meaning that still wouldn't come clear. She'd been so unhappy these past few weeks. She'd give anything to make things right with Peter. A discussion with Ben?

She sat on the couch and squirmed. She still felt guilty for dragging Peter and Neal and even poor sweet Mozzie into that fiasco, just because she'd been bored and feeling kind of flat after all the excitement of her adventures being kidnapped by Keller. She knew she'd been too nosy, listening for hours to the scanner, imagining nefarious doings. She had a tendency to push into things that weren't her business, and a tendency to look before she leaped. It had gotten her into trouble before, but she'd been lucky. Peter had always shielded her from the consequences of her actions.

She loved him so much, and knew she'd caused problems for him at work, not to mention embarrassment. She'd felt, since that day, like she'd done wrong and had no way of putting it right. She knew that Peter had taken on a fatherly dynamic with Neal, and she herself had suggested the new way that Peter punished the young con man when he pushed his partner's boundaries too far. Sometimes she wished that Peter would do the same to her, but at the same time, that was too weird. He was Peter, her sweet, loving husband. It just wouldn't work.

The doorbell rang. She got up slowly and let in Ben Morello. She hadn't seen or spoken to him since the last time he'd been in this room.

Ben smiled at her. "It's good to see you, Ellie." He glanced around. "I see you've gotten the phone fixed."

She blushed. "Hi, Ben."

"Peter asked me to come over here tonight. We worked pretty closely together on the Fitz sting. Got to know each other. I know things have been bad between you two, and I know why. You do, too." He regarded her soberly. " You were lucky I caught on to you before you screwed things up. You were very lucky that I'm not really a criminal."

Ellie plastered on a bright and cheery smile. "Well, good, so it all worked out. I'm sorry, really I am, that I almost messed you up. But, all's well that ends well, right?"

"Is it? Peter and I had a long talk about your recklessness, young lady." He and Ellie were probably the same age, if he wasn't younger, but he used the loaded term consciously, and noted the look passed across her face. He made sure his inner grin didn't show. He'd been right – no woman would suggest her husband spank his colleague if at least some part of her didn't want to spank or be spanked herself.

"He's given me his permission to do to you what he probably should have done a long time ago. What he does to that CI of his when he gets out of hand. I have a feeling that we're in for a long lesson, so I'm going to start now. He'll be along a little while, so you can feel safe that nothing will happen here that doesn't have his permission and approval."

He'd been subtly maneuvering her toward the dining room the whole time he'd been in the house. Now he pulled one of the chairs out and set it in the center of the floor. And with nothing further said, he sat down, hauled her across his lap, raised her flowered skirt to her waist, and started to spank her.

Ellie was too confused and shocked to even scream, at first, but outrage soon found her voice for her. "Let me up, you gorilla! Ouch! Ouch! Peter will have your balls for this! Asshole!"

Morello kept up a steady pace, covering her plump cheeks with measured swats. She was wearing a surprisingly sexy pair of panties for a lady who'd been married a dozen years, red lace boy shorts that were cut high over the cheeks to leave a good portion of creamy skin bare. That skin soon began to rival the panties in color. "You want to watch your language, Ellie, if you don't want me to have to make this longer to deal with that too."

Ellie, who'd been about to launch into another diatribe, clamped her mouth shut. She was starting to feel very sorry for Neal. She hadn't realized how much a spanking hurt; she'd thought that a punishment used on children would surely be mild. Instead what had started as a sting was building into a burning pain she would very much like to escape. Ben had trapped one of her arms under her body and was holding her other wrist to the small of her back in a hand that felt like a manacle; when she started to kick her legs, unable to help it, he clamped his muscular thigh over them, trapping her further.

She was conscious of her helplessness; no matter what, she wasn't getting out of this spanking until the man who held her chose to stop it. He was much stronger than her, and determined to see her punished. She couldn't manipulate him the way she could Peter, who loved her; this man would be immune to all the ways she'd learned to get her own way with Peter over the years of their marriage. Grimly, she held on to the only resistance that was left to her, her dignity. He might be spanking her bottom like she was a naughty child, but she didn't have to cry like one. She wouldn't make a sound.

"Now, do you want to tell me why you're being punished?" His voice was steady and calm; he wasn't even winded, the bastard. She was silent, not trusting herself to reply as calmly. He punished this disobedience with a barrage of harder smacks and she realized with despair that he was measuring out the force of this punishment with almost scientific care, and could hit her much harder if he chose.

"Because!" she yelped, and when he paused, his big hand resting on her aching bottom, she began again, trying with near success to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Because I almost messed up your operation." He caressed her butt gently, then smacked again.

"Good. And why else?"

"Because I lied and pretended to be an FBI agent! OW! And because I went after you without any backup and could have gotten hurt. Because I was nosy and went looking for trouble. Oh god, please stop!" He'd begun spanking her again through this recital. When she finished he stopped again, laying his hand on her bottom and feeling the heat it was casting off.

He looked towards the foyer, at Rebecca , Burke, Diana, Mozzie and Neal, who had all come in. Rebecca was smirking; Burke looked grim and uneasy but there was satisfaction in his face, too. Neal's handsome face was sympathetic and Mozzie was outraged; Neal was restraining him with a hand on his shoulder to keep him from running to Ellie's rescue. Diana merely looked bored. They'd come in while Ellie was enumerating the reasons for her punishment, but she hadn't heard them over her own words, the sounds of smacking, and, he imagined, the rush of blood in her head.

"I'm going to take down your panties now and spank you on your bare bottom," he said, seeking and receiving Burke's tight-lipped nod of permission. Ellie yelled in protest, and Neal laid a hand on his partner's shoulder, a show of comfort and solidarity. He knew how much it distressed Burke to see Ellie in pain, but he also knew, from hard experience, that the pain was temporary and the lesson needed to be learned. He remembered the comfort and safety he felt after Peter spanked him, how he felt loved, forgiven, and cared for. He knew at those times that there was someone stronger and wiser looking out for him who cared enough to protect him even from his own poor choices. Ellie would feel that same safe feeling when all was said and done, and a sore bottom was not too high price to pay for that.

Ellie couldn't help herself, the moans and yelps were just coming from her throat. She felt entirely humiliated, childlike and remorseful being spanked over this man's lap, and now he was pushing the sexy panties she'd worn to finally seduce her husband, down over her hot sore bottom. The lacy barrier was thin, yet when it was lost and the spanking began again, she realized how much it had protected her. Ben's hard palm on her bare skin hurt twice as much. She couldn't bear it; it was too much; she forgot her resolution to be strong and began to sob, gasping out incoherent entreaties and apologies around her tears.

Morello heard her break, and laid on a few more swats for good measure, before he stopped, stroking her back and murmuring soothing words as she tried to stem her tears. After a while he lifted her onto his lap and cradled her head into his neck, stroking her hair and continuing the litany of meaningless soothing words. Her ample, hot bottom felt good against his groin, but he resettled her so her thighs were across his knees, her bottom not touching him, both for the sake of her comfort and to keep Burke from punching him in the jaw if he got an erection cuddling the man's wife. Rebecca would not be pleased by that, either. He did feel a stirring, but clamped down on it. The look he was getting from Rebecca told him that this had turned her on and that there were more spanking games in their near future, but this was not a game, and though he was aroused, this was not about sex. He finally guided the woman to her feet and pulled up her panties, then looked into her face. "Are we going to have this problem again in the future?" She shook her head.

"No . . . sir."

"Good girl. Now go and apologize to your husband." She looked up, embarrassed to find that she had an audience, but the expression she saw on Peter's face chased all other emotions right out of her mind. She ran into his arms and covered his face with kisses.

"Peter, love, I'm so sorry. I love you. I'm so sorry for everything. I'll never do anything so stupid again."

"Ellie. . . god I love you so much. If anything had happened to you . . ."

Ben rose to go, and the other four interlopers also left, the emotion in the room too strong for them to stay. He caught Burke's eye over his wife's shoulder as he passed; there were tears in the man's eyes but he returned Ben's brief nod, and a silent communication passed between them. Ben knew that if Ellie Burke ever got herself into bad trouble again, her husband would be able to handle it the way she needed it to be handled.


End file.
